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"
Asa
!
"
she
called
,
and
then
tramping
into
the
next
room
where
he
was
,
his
frizzled
grayish
hair
curling
distractedly
above
his
round
head
,
she
said
:
"
Read
this
.
"
Clyde
,
who
had
followed
,
saw
him
take
it
a
little
nervously
in
his
pudgy
hands
,
his
lips
,
always
weak
and
beginning
to
crinkle
at
the
center
with
age
,
now
working
curiously
.
Any
one
who
had
known
his
life
's
history
would
have
said
it
was
the
expression
,
slightly
emphasized
,
with
which
he
had
received
most
of
the
untoward
blows
of
his
life
in
the
past
.
"
Tst
!
Tst
!
Tst
!
"
was
the
only
sound
he
made
at
first
,
a
sucking
sound
of
the
tongue
and
palate
--
most
weak
and
inadequate
,
it
seemed
to
Clyde
.
Next
there
was
another
"
Tst
!
Tst
!
Tst
!
"
,
his
head
beginning
to
shake
from
side
to
side
.
Then
,
"
Now
,
what
do
you
suppose
could
have
caused
her
to
do
that
?
"
Then
he
turned
and
gazed
at
his
wife
,
who
gazed
blankly
in
return
.
Then
,
walking
to
and
fro
,
his
hands
behind
him
,
his
short
legs
taking
unconscious
and
queerly
long
steps
,
his
head
moving
again
,
he
gave
vent
to
another
ineffectual
"
Tst
!
Tst
!
Tst
!
"
Always
the
more
impressive
,
Mrs.
Griffiths
now
showed
herself
markedly
different
and
more
vital
in
this
trying
situation
,
a
kind
of
irritation
or
dissatisfaction
with
life
itself
,
along
with
an
obvious
physical
distress
,
seeming
to
pass
through
her
like
a
visible
shadow
.
Once
her
husband
had
gotten
up
,
she
reached
out
and
took
the
note
,
then
merely
glared
at
it
again
,
her
face
set
in
hard
yet
stricken
and
disturbing
lines
.
Her
manner
was
that
of
one
who
is
intensely
disquieted
and
dissatisfied
,
one
who
fingers
savagely
at
a
material
knot
and
yet
can
not
undo
it
,
one
who
seeks
restraint
and
freedom
from
complaint
and
yet
who
would
complain
bitterly
,
angrily
.
For
behind
her
were
all
those
years
of
religious
work
and
faith
,
which
somehow
,
in
her
poorly
integrated
conscience
,
seemed
dimly
to
indicate
that
she
should
justly
have
been
spared
this
.
Where
was
her
God
,
her
Christ
,
at
this
hour
when
this
obvious
evil
was
being
done
?
Why
had
He
not
acted
for
her
?
How
was
He
to
explain
this
?
His
Biblical
promises
!
His
perpetual
guidance
!
His
declared
mercies
!
In
the
face
of
so
great
a
calamity
,
it
was
very
hard
for
her
,
as
Clyde
could
see
,
to
get
this
straightened
out
,
instantly
at
least
.
Although
,
as
Clyde
had
come
to
know
,
it
could
be
done
eventually
,
of
course
.
For
in
some
blind
,
dualistic
way
both
she
and
Asa
insisted
,
as
do
all
religionists
,
in
disassociating
God
from
harm
and
error
and
misery
,
while
granting
Him
nevertheless
supreme
control
.
They
would
seek
for
something
else
--
some
malign
,
treacherous
,
deceiving
power
which
,
in
the
face
of
God
's
omniscience
and
omnipotence
,
still
beguiles
and
betrays
--
and
find
it
eventually
in
the
error
and
perverseness
of
the
human
heart
,
which
God
has
made
,
yet
which
He
does
not
control
,
because
He
does
not
want
to
control
it
.
At
the
moment
,
however
,
only
hurt
and
rage
were
with
her
,
and
yet
her
lips
did
not
twitch
as
did
Asa
's
,
nor
did
her
eyes
show
that
profound
distress
which
filled
his
.
Instead
she
retreated
a
step
and
reexamined
the
letter
,
almost
angrily
,
then
said
to
Asa
:
"
She
's
run
away
with
some
one
and
she
does
n't
say
--
"
Then
she
stopped
suddenly
,
remembering
the
presence
of
the
children
--
Clyde
,
Julia
,
and
Frank
,
all
present
and
all
gazing
curiously
,
intently
,
unbelievingly
.
"
Come
in
here
,
"
she
called
to
her
husband
,
"
I
want
to
talk
to
you
a
minute
.
You
children
had
better
go
on
to
bed
.
We
'll
be
out
in
a
minute
.
"
With
Asa
then
she
retired
quite
precipitately
to
a
small
room
back
of
the
mission
hall
.
They
heard
her
click
the
electric
bulb
.
Then
their
voices
were
heard
in
low
converse
,
while
Clyde
and
Julia
and
Frank
looked
at
each
other
,
although
Frank
,
being
so
young
--
only
ten
--
could
scarcely
be
said
to
have
comprehended
fully
.
Even
Julia
hardly
gathered
the
full
import
of
it
.
But
Clyde
,
because
of
his
larger
contact
with
life
and
his
mother
's
statement
(
"
She
's
run
away
with
some
one
"
)
,
understood
well
enough
.
Esta
had
tired
of
all
this
,
as
had
he
.
Perhaps
there
was
some
one
,
like
one
of
those
dandies
whom
he
saw
on
the
streets
with
the
prettiest
girls
,
with
whom
she
had
gone
.
But
where
?
And
what
was
he
like
?
That
note
told
something
,
and
yet
his
mother
had
not
let
him
see
it
.
She
had
taken
it
away
too
quickly
.
If
only
he
had
looked
first
,
silently
and
to
himself
!
